Ivory Inspiration
by HowNowWit
Summary: Sometimes it takes a bit of coaxing - and courage - for one to try again. Rizzles. One-shot. Jane's POV. [Based on a tumblr prompt.]


Ivory Inspiration

She loved moments like this. Sheets and sunlight and skin. Time to just be. Together.

Jane brushed a finger along Maura's bare arm, eyes tracing the movement until it disappeared beneath the covers. She shifted closer in the lazy quiet, close enough to share a pillow, share the warmth beneath silk sheets. Her fingers wandered until they reached a palm, mapped its contours and creases, and then reversed their course.

She used to hate mornings. Despised the rude alarm and dragging fatigue before coffee. But now…

She watched as Maura's lips twitched upwards, saw the soft smile crinkle the corners of her eyes.

Now mornings were her favorite time.

Maura cupped her face, thumb absently brushing along a cheekbone as she seemed to search Jane's expression. Memorizing it before she brought their lips together. Jane sank into the kiss, letting her world narrow to the tender press of skin against skin.

She wrapped her arms around Maura's waist, let her hands roam upwards across the smooth expanse of her back.

Maura hummed in contentment as they broke apart, her eyes dancing with gentle humor, and Jane wrinkled her nose at the tease she imagined running through Maura's mind. Something involving the words _cuddle_ and _romantic_. Jane hid her face in the crook of Maura's neck.

They could have entire conversations this way without saying a word.

Rolling onto her back, Maura captured one of Jane's wandering hands and placed it on her stomach, playing with knuckles and digits.

"You have a pianist's fingers." The words were thoughtful, slightly rough from sleep.

Jane raised an eyebrow as she placed a kiss on a bare shoulder. "Is that so?" Her lips moved to a collarbone, tasting skin.

She felt Maura line up their hands beneath the covers, straightening digits until Jane could curl the tips of her fingers over Maura's shorter ones.

"Yes. Long and narrow phalanges."

Science speak in the mornings. Jane pressed her nose further into the covers, eyes closing briefly, savoring. When they opened, Jane found Maura studying her.

"You used to play, didn't you?"

The words were innocent enough, but Maura never asked questions she knew the answer to unless she had a purpose.

Jane rolled, slipping her leg over Maura's to straddle her hips. The sheets fell back, exposing her torso to the somewhat chill air. Hands went to her waist, lightly caressing her sides, and Jane let her own rest on Maura's forearms.

She searched Maura's expression. "Why?"

Maura heard the real question and sat up, wrapping her arms around Jane's waist and pressing her lips to her throat. The kisses trailed upwards, slow and warm. Jane closed her eyes and had almost lost herself in the sensation when Maura spoke again.

"Do you miss it?"

Jane tensed. The phantom tingle in scarred palms made her heartbeat quicken. They were headed down a path that would disrupt the calm of their morning. She was reluctant to let it go, to meet the conflict of the day so soon.

Maura felt the tension in coiled muscle and her grip tightened. "Please don't," she murmured against Jane's collarbone, and Jane felt the words form against her skin, as though chasing the ghost away. _Don't run. Don't pull away. Stay with me._

Jane pressed her face into Maura's hair. She took a deep breath and let it out, trying to will the shadow from her thoughts.

Maura pulled back to meet her gaze, and there was no insistence or challenge, only understanding. Almost apologetic.

"I wanted to take a chance." She offered a small smile. "Just in case."

The words triggered a memory.

"_You're much braver than I."_

_The unexpected words were soft but firm. A statement of fact. _

_Jane scoffed in disbelief and turned to face her, back to the counter. "That's not true."_

_Maura glanced into the living room, scattered with Rizzolis. _

"_It is. You gave us a chance." _

_Jane's mind flashed to that moment on the couch months ago. A shared glance and stopped time. Taking a chance, then nothing but mingling breaths and softness. Her world broke apart and reformed that night._

_Jane's eyes dropped briefly. "That's not brave. That's finally realizing what I couldn't live without."_

_Maura pushed off the counter and stepped closer, a hand coming up to caress her jaw. The pad of her thumb brushed the corner of her lips, and Jane turned her head to kiss the digit, wondering at the sudden thickness in the air between them. Her eyes searched Maura's, asking._

_Maura smiled at the gesture, but her eyes remained thoughtful as they captured and held Jane's. _

"_Sometimes it takes an almost insurmountable courage to begin."_

Jane shivered. This woman. This woman never failed to awe her.

She leaned forward on her hands, dark curls splaying over one shoulder, forming a curtain. Maura followed her down, and Jane took a moment to savor the sight: Maura relaxed, intelligent eyes open and expectant, light brown hair spread about the pillow underneath. It soothed the squirming knot in her chest, allowed her to breathe.

Jane arched an eyebrow. "Is this why you bought the piano?"

Hazel eyes flickered, and Jane knew she heard the new playfulness in her tone. Her hands teased Jane's hair before trailing down her torso. The touch left goosebumps in its path.

Maura's lips quirked, and Jane resisted the temptation to taste the amusement with her own. "There are many reasons I purchased the baby grand, Jane."

Jane chuckled. "Let me guess. You thought it went well with the décor."

But Maura didn't allow the humor to deflect. Not this time.

The hands paused on her rib cage, caressing each small ridge and valley. "I don't want you to miss out on something you may enjoy."

Jane didn't respond. The unspoken threatened to clog her throat. She didn't know what to say, how to express the tangle of emotions in her chest. They remained still for several moments, nothing but the sound of shared breaths and chirping birds to fill the silence.

Maura reached up and pressed a hand to Jane's cheek, lingering for a moment before tucking a curl behind her ear. Hazel eyes gazed into hers, soft and sincere. "It's just a thought," she said, and the words rested between them. Light, tangible. But not heavy, not pressing.

Jane leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips.

"We should get up or we'll be late."

...

...

The keyboard cover was open.

Jane paused in the doorway, drink in hand. Jo Friday tip-tapped on the hardwood floor at her feet. Light spilled into the room between open curtains, the edge of sunlight just touching the dark wood of the baby grand. It felt like a sign. A pointing finger.

Jane huffed out a breath at her ridiculous imagination. Her eyes returned to the exposed keyboard.

This was just like Maura, to leave such subtle hints. She should have known that conversation wasn't over. She took a long drink of water, feeling the chill run down her throat to settle in her stomach.

Sheet music sat on the bench. That was new, too.

Maura was persistent. And patient. A dangerous combination.

Jane sighed and entered the room, meandering her way towards the object that seemed to have some sort of gravitational pull ever since that particular morning.

If she admitted it to herself, there were times when life asked for music. Needed a soundtrack, a way to say something without words. Even if those "words" were written by someone else. Were she honest, most of those moments in her life revolved around Maura. The swelling of emotion in her chest when their eyes met, and Maura gave her that smile. The one just for her. It begged for recognition. Release. Something special, just for them.

She reached her goal and stood before the piano, allowing herself to admire it objectively. It was beautiful, she had to admit. Deep mahogany, shined and swirling. It drew the eye. Though it had never been played in their house – not a single note to grace the air – Jane knew how it would sound. Round and clear. Maura only purchased the best.

Jane swallowed. Deep down, she knew she could say no. She could say no, and that would be the end of it.

But she hadn't. Not yet. Why was that?

Setting her glass on a cup holder, Jane held her hands in front of her. Spread them wide until the tendons flexed and stood out against her skin. The usual ache turned into a sting when she stretched that far. Her reach used to extend to an octave and a half. Now, she would be lucky to reach an octave. The thought wasn't as bitter as she expected.

She studied them, stretched out before her. Prone. The pinkies still tended to twitch with miniature spasms when she least expected.

She knew what others thought. Demons. Hoyt. Scars. A painful reminder. And they weren't wrong. But it wasn't the whole story.

Her hands closed into loose fists, revealing the white star of scar tissue. Piano was a part of her past. It was the Jane she used to be. And the thought of meshing old with new was painful in a way that words could not describe. They didn't belong together, not in the same person. It would taint what she had now, what she had built for herself anew. Better, whole. With Maura.

She closed her eyes. She did not need what _was_ in order to be fulfilled with what now _is_. As simple as that. Why couldn't others understand?

A sound at her feet drew her attention, and she glanced down at Jo, who weaved under the heavy instrument and sniffed the leg of the bench.

"What do you think?" Her voice sounded loud in the silence.

Jo blinked up at her, head tilted. She scratched at an itch, tags jangling merrily, before giving a quick shake and trotting off.

Jane watched her go.

"Yeah. Me too."

...

...

She found her swaying in the kitchen, humming to classical music that spilled from the iPod speakers on the counter as she rinsed dishes for the dishwasher.

Jane took a moment to admire the sight. Maura loved classical music. Sometimes she meditated to it. It was a part of who she was. Jane blinked, feeling her mind wrap around the notion. She'd known that, but somehow she'd never…_realized_ it before. What it meant.

Jane stepped forward, wrapping her arms around a slim waist and pressing her nose into fragrant hair.

"Hey," she whispered against the curve of an ear.

She heard the answering smile in Maura's voice. "Hi." Maura's weight leaned into her, and Jane pressed forward to compensate.

"How was practice?" Maura asked, her head turning as she briefly clasped one of Jane's hands around her middle.

Jane laughed. "T.J.'s a natural. He'll start little league this summer, no problem."

Maura nodded, and they stood in silence for a while, enjoying the embrace. After a few moments, she brought Jane's hand to her lips, pressed a kiss to the palm. Light but meaningful. The gesture touched something inside of Jane, something unexpected and sharp, and she blinked at the sensation. How it echoed and grew upon itself. Flooded her nerve endings. A warmth and tenderness, but also a realization. It made her think of scars and tears, and healing. Of all they had, what they shared, but also all that Maura gave her and continued to give.

The feeling overwhelmed her, and Jane was glad of Maura's comforting weight to help steady her shaking knees.

They began to sway slightly to the upbeat piano melody, and Jane found herself in a curious mood. Happy, content. But also…invigorated. Like how she felt just before a big Red Sox game. On the cusp of something new.

"What's your favorite?" Jane asked.

"Hmm?" Distracted.

Jane squeezed her arms to bring Maura back from wherever she'd gone. "Your favorite song. Composer."

"Oh." The slight pause made Jane wonder. "I don't have one."

"But if you had to choose," Jane insisted. "A few names."

Another pause, and this time she could practically hear the gears turning in Maura's head. She felt the body in front of her go still, controlled, as though trying not to spook a stray animal. Jane tightened her fingers to let her know it was okay.

"I'm rather fond of Tchaikovsky." Her voice remained carefully casual. "_Nocturne_…. And Chopin. Beethoven." She shrugged and turned in Jane's arms. Her smile became playful, eyes dancing with mischief. "Chopsticks."

Jane's laugh was hearty, and it surprised her how light she felt. Maura's answering laugh, full and warm, told her exactly what Maura was thinking. Suspecting.

Jane expected questions. Expected eagerness and validation, maybe facts and figures. Plans and jumping in head first. Encouragement that was meant well, but that pushed and nudged. When she wasn't even sure she was ready.

Instead, Maura watched her a moment, hazel eyes discerning. They softened, and she drew up on her toes to place a kiss on her cheek. She lingered a moment, hand pressed to Jane's chest over her heart, before pulling away.

"I'm glad you're home," she said.

Simple. Perfect.

…

Jane didn't know why she viewed them as adversaries. Something to fight. To resist.

Something to resent.

She couldn't pinpoint when over the past few months she'd began to see them that way.

She stood before the Steinway and listened to the quiet of the empty house. The sun once again slanted across dark mahogany, across strings and gleaming wood. The solitude was comforting in its own way. It gave her space to think, and maybe even a dash of courage. She glanced down.

Black and white. Ebony and ivory. Minor and major. One wouldn't think they could belong together, with their sharp dissonance and contrast. But with the right combination, the right chords, they could be beautiful together.

The bench scraped along the floor as she pulled it out. The sound grated on the ears and she winced before she sat. Her hands flexed.

She hadn't even touched a piano in years. Not since before. Not since him.

But also not since _her_.

Sweaty palms gripped her thighs, tight and sudden. The pain flared, brief and hot. Then subsided as they loosened.

What if it wasn't about reclaiming what was lost? What if it was about building something new, creating something here, now? To just…

She closed her eyes and heard the soft conviction as though it were yesterday.

_Sometimes it takes an almost insurmountable courage to begin._

Jane stared down at the keys. Her hand hovered, and she saw the slight tremor in long fingers before she formed her resolve.

_For Maura._

She took a deep breath and placed her hands on the keys.

…

* * *

A/N: _Where_ is all this fluff coming from? *Looks around, blinking.* Beats the heck out of me. Maybe I need to try some angst now…

A big thanks to missmaclay on tumblr for the prompt: "Maura tries to coax Jane into playing piano again." I know this has been done before, but I thought I'd give it a try. Hope I didn't disappoint. Another thanks to the other people on tumblr who also sent me prompts. I have lots of ideas now. :) They'll be coming along later.

I did more research into pianos for this piece than I ever expected, although you wouldn't think that based on the story. (Those baby grands are _expensive_! Whew.) And did I include a nod to one of my other fics in here? You betcha. ;) This seems to be forming a trend.


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